


Pulse

by greenteatrashbaby



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, getting wine drunk together, minor Rogue One spoilers lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 12:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12232824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenteatrashbaby/pseuds/greenteatrashbaby
Summary: When it comes to your skin, I'm a drunk driver just trying to walk a straight line.





	Pulse

You liked Jon.

He was funny, you figured, and he shared a lot of obscure interests and unpopular opinions with you. He was quiet, and thoughtful, and he might have a bit of a resting bitch-face, but he was incredibly kind.

And sure, you just met the guy. But you liked him.

Your desk has been next to Andy’s for months, and you put in a good name with the management at your apartment complex for him, so it was no surprise when he invited you to the little “house-warming diddy” he was throwing - his words, not yours. And you knew him well enough to know that you should bring a bottle of wine, as well as wine glasses, because he sure as hell wasn’t gonna have either.

So you knocked on his apartment door, which was only a few doors down from your own, and grinned as it opened.

“Aaayyye!” Andy raised his bottle of beer. “Welcome to the party!”

“I bought you wine glasses,” you said, shoving the box into his arms and marching past him. “I also bought myself wine.”

You greeted the half dozen folks lounging around the living area, all of which you knew from work. You got various forms of acknowledgements as you led Andy into his own kitchen, determined to open the bottle of red.

He set down his beer to wrestle with the box for minute while you started twisting the bottle opener into the wine. He barely managing to pop the box open before there was a knock on the door. “Be right back,” he said, leaving you to extract the long stemmed glasses. You ran the set of four under warm water and set them aside, grabbing paper towels and wiping them down.

“Y/n, this is Jon.”

You looked over your shoulder at Andy, then turned fully to introduce yourself. “Hi, Jon!” You stuck out a hand to shake, which he took with a grin.

“Hi, y/n! Nice to meet ya!”

“You two are my wine drinking friends. Become friends now.”

You laughed. “Good thing I bought a set of glasses instead of just bringing one for myself.”

Jon lifted the bottle in his fist. “Good thing I got the good stuff.”

“Ooooh,” you reached for the bottle. “What’s that?”

“Okay, have fun, wine nerds,” Andy patted Jon on the shoulder as he handed you the wine to examine. “I’m gonna go be a host or something.”

“Menguante Garnacha.. This shit sounds too fancy for me,” you said, returning to the bottle you were trying to open earlier. “Check out this ten buck chuck.”

“Cab Sauv?” Jon said, checking the label, then going ahead and popping the cork out. “I’m a fan. Haven’t heard of this vineyard though.”

“Chateau Ste Michelle is up north, in Washington,” you explained, pouring yourself a glass. You paused before pouring a second, glancing up at Jon. He nodded and you poured. “I order it in bulk online. It’s my favorite.”

“That good?”

“Oh, fuck yeah, bud.”

He clinked his glass against yours and you both took a sip, yours lasting slightly longer. He gave you a look of shock after he finished his sip. “That is smooth as hell.”

And so began the night. The two of you had to refill your glasses before you even managed to exit the kitchen. You knew Jon vaguely, just because he was an on-screen personality at RT and Andy had talked about him in the past, but you had never had even an exchange of words until tonight. When the two of you rejoined the party, you began discussing baby nonsense with your boss, Lindsay, who was happily seated in one of the two chairs that Andy had out. You could hear him animatedly discussing something about Star Wars.

“Y/n!” You turned to him, he was red in the face, but he was still smiling. Jon rolled his eyes.

“You saw Rogue One on Monday, right?”

You nodded, sipping your wine. “What’s up?”

“Jon didn’t like it. Tell him he’s wrong.”

“Okay, hold on,” Jon said, laughing. “It’s not that I didn’t like it, I just had some issues with it.”

“Like, the writing?” you said, smiling slightly at the face Andy made. “And the pacing was real shit for the first hour.”

“Exactly!” Jon held out his wine glass. You clinked it and giggled. “All the cutting between different planets was so hard to follow, it was super distracting.”

“And what the hell was up with Tarkin? He was so unnecessary.”

“Agreed.”

“He looked like the food critic from Ratatouille.”

Jon laughed heartily as you drank more wine.

“You guys aren’t cool for shitting on Star Wars,” Andy grumbled.

“We’re not shitting on it,” you said. “I love Star Wars. You know that. But Rogue One deserves some criticism.”

Jon nodded. “I enjoyed the movie, it was fun to watch. But it seemed like a spectacle for spectacle’s sake. It wasn’t all great.”

“Not to mention that white knight savior bullshit at the end. Oh, my god.”

“Right?” Jon looked at you with wide eyes. “I almost yelled in the theater! I was like, ‘fuck off! How’d you even get here?’”

You nodded furiously. “It would have been so much more meaningful if she did everything on her own. It was her father that built it, it was her legacy, it was her responsibility. She should have been facing the damage her father created on her own.”

“Okay, but,” Andy said. “Think about it. Cassian has always faced his fate head on, never hid. Jin always left everything behind and never looked back. Then, as the explosion approached them,” he leaned forward like he was about to blow your minds. “Cassian has his back to it, and Jin is facing it!”

“Alright, cool it, nerd,” Jon laughed. “You’re reading into some shit.”

“Where’d you get that theory, Tumblr?”

Andy looked disappointed. “You guys are no fun.”

“Ouch, dude,” you said, clutching your heart. “That hurts.”

Jon snickered into his wine glass and took a long drink, finishing it off. He gestured to yours. “Refill?”

You eyed the half inch of red and knocked it back. “Please.”

The two of you managed to polish off the last of your bottle quickly, and the second bottle was opened even faster. You found yourself in a meandering conversation that wandered all the way from dogs to Deadpool, from cotton candy to catapults, and from telephone booths to Tesla.

And so you decided. You liked Jon. You hoped he liked you, too.

It was getting late, but the party continued. The wine was drained, and you had been convinced to take several shots throughout the night, which made you very thankful that you only lived a few doors down. Jon was about to order a car off RideAustin when you stopped him.

“You’re leaving?”

Your face must have shocked him, because he got flustered. “Uh, yeah, I um. I’m drunk and it’s still loud here and I wanna sleep.”

As if on cue, Michael started yelling at Andy, who was too drunk to function properly. You shut your eyes. He was such a loud man. “Yeah, me too, I think.”

“Where d’you live?” He asked. “Maybe we can rideshare.”

“Uhh,” you turned around to face the front door and pointed in the general direction of your apartment. “About forty feet that way.”

“Oh, fuck, what? You live here too?”

You grinned. “Still wanna rideshare? I have a wicked comfy couch. I sleep on it all the time.”

“F’real?” Jon scratched his cheek absentmindedly. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s chill!” You nodded a little too hard and watched your vision blur slightly. “Andy doesn’t even have a couch, so.”

He laughed. You scanned the room for the most competent person present to let know you would be leaving, because Andy was surely a lost cause. You walked over to Lindsay. Your head rushed.

“Hey, me and Jon are heading out for the night.”

She raised an eyebrow and leaned past you to look at Jon. “Together?”

You made a face. “Not like that. I offered him my couch so he didn't have to buy a ride.”

She laughed. “Gotcha. Have a good night! Drink some water!”

You waved her off and started walking towards the door, Jon behind you.

“Use protection!” Michael yelled. “Don’t end up like us!”

You groaned loudly and Jon told him to fuck off, Michael laughing madly as the door shut behind Jon.

The walk to your apartment was short, but took much more effort than it should have. You were giggling so hard you were snorting, dragging a very slow Jon by the hand. You swore you really weren’t that drunk when you were stood in one spot, but moving was a whole new situation that your brain and body just wasn’t prepared for. When the two of you finally reached your door, Jon leaned against the wall next to it and watched you with heavy lidded eyes as you fumbling through your purse, searching for keys. He laughed as you struggled to shove the proper key into your door.

“Fucking shit, dude, I drank too much,” you mumbled, shoving the door open.

“If you drank too much, I should expect to be very embarrassed when I wake up.”

You giggled as you led him into your apartment, which was slightly cleaner than it normally was, but still not great. “Excuse the mess, I’m a garbage dumpster fire.”

“Pfff,” Jon swiped a hand at you as he nailed a controlled fall directly onto your plush couch. His arm spread over the back of the couch as he settled in. “This isn’t bad at all.”

You chucked your purse onto the kitchen counter and grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet, filling them with the pitcher of water in your fridge. Handing one to Jon, you seated yourself next to him and chugged half of it right off the bat. After the glass was safely on the coffee table, you leaned back and exhaled, barely aware of the fact that your head was now nestled in the crook of his arm.

The clock on your wall let out a single beep. You both looked over to see that it just struck midnight.

“God, are we old, or what?” Jon laughed, taking a swig of the water. “Home before midnight on a Saturday.”

“Excuse you, sir,” you said, pulling your legs up onto the couch and looking over at him. “I am home. You are at a lady’s home.”

He cocked his head in acknowledgement. “True. A pretty lady, at that.”

You beamed at the compliment - you were too far gone to overthink it.

“How old are you, actually?” He watched you make a face and stuttered. “Wait, that’s rude to ask, isn’t it?”

You laughed and waved a hand. “It’s fine, I’m just trying to actually remember. I turn 31 next month.”

He sighed wistfully. “31. I remember the year fondly.”

“How old are you, then?”

“32.”

You spewed laughter, and he joined. “Man, 31 was forever ago for you, huh?”

He leaned forward to put his glass of water on the coffee table next to yours, and took the opportunity to resettle, closing the small gap between the two of you. He was warm, you concluded, and you were sure you were too. You revelled in how comfortable the silence was.

“Hey…”

You looked over to him. “Hey?”

He seemed to think a moment, then let out a small chuckle at his own mind. “Would it be, like,  _ totally weird _ if I said that I have a bit of a crush on you?”

A smile crept onto your face, and you distracted yourself by fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I mean. Only if it’s totally weird if I say ditto.”

“Yeah?”

You casually looked around the room, hearing the grin on his face. “Yeah.”

His head fell back onto the couch, eyes closed. “That feels pretty damn good.”

Giggling, you looked over and observed him while he smiled at the ceiling. 

You liked Jon. He was cute. And sweet. And absurdly flattering. And also pretty hot.

You were drunk, you remembered. But your face was so damn close to his, your body pressed up against his side, and his arm protectively over your shoulder. And it just felt… well, pretty damn good.

He peeked over at you finally, studying your face in a way that you’re sure made you blush. “We should… not have sex tonight.”

You studied your clock. “You’re probably right.”

“But I would love to kiss you right now.”

You looked at him in your peripherals, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Follow your dreams, Jon.”

The smile took over as the hand he had on your shoulder migrated to the back of your neck, and his lips were on yours. A hand instinctively went to his jaw as he kissed you, and he pulled away, checking your expression before diving back in deeper. He tasted like wine and chapstick, but you did too, and it tasted like comfort and home and  _ exactly what you had always wanted _ . He was so  _ intense _ , almost desperate, his fingers burying themselves in the hair at the nape of your neck, yours scratching themselves against his stubble as you traced his jawline to his ear, settling on his neck. He crashed into you, again and again, like waves that were seasick and needed the shore. Your head was swimming when you finally broke apart (somewhat from your blood alcohol content and somewhat from the fireworks in your mind), and you felt your heart pound and his breath hitch, staring at each other with a kind of need that you hadn’t experienced in eons.

“We should stop,” he said.

“You’re probably right,” you responded.

He kissed you again, gentler, sweeter, slower, and slightly more agonizing. “I don’t want you to be a drunken lay.”

His voice was low, almost like gravel. “I agree,” you said, staring at his reddened lips. “But I’m also drunk, and you’re  _ you _ .”

He chuckled lightly, continuing to plant tiny kisses on your lips. “I’m me? What about you being  _ you _ ? How have I not had the honor of being obscenely into you already?”

You giggled, running your thumb across his upper lip. “I’m honestly wondering the same thing.”

“So let’s do this right.”

You nodded.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

You pondered that a moment. “I think I might be hanging out with a really cute guy named Jon.”

He laughed. “Good answer.”

**Author's Note:**

> this tag is dry and it's killing me slowly. i wrote this forever ago (january, i think), so i finally finished it
> 
> ALSO @AGENTTEX636 I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED YOUR COMMENT SORRY I'M STUPID


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